


Staying Alive

by TheMeaningofHaste



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: A little angst, Hand Jobs, Jim loves disco music, M/M, consulting husbands, happy ending i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMeaningofHaste/pseuds/TheMeaningofHaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Feel the city breaking and everybody shaking. I'm staying alive, staying alive."</p>
<p>Throughout everything that happened between them there was one unspoken rule: Stay Alive.</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>4 times Jim and Sebastian stayed alive and the one time Jim didn't</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staying Alive

**Author's Note:**

> After the fantastic ending to His Last Vow I just had to write this little headcanon. 
> 
> The song clearly belongs to the BeeGee's (and I highly recommend listening to it while you read) and the original characters belong to Conan Doyle (no matter how much he dislikes them). Also, full credit for the pool scene goes to BBC Sherlock, Moffat, and Gatiss. I just really felt the need to include my own take on it and re-writing the dialogue would have been uncomfortable for everyone involved. 
> 
> Thanks to my sister as well for being my beta, even when I'm annoying. She is the Wren to my Cath.

“Oh you can tell by the way I use my walk I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk.”

                Sebastian chuckled as he watched his boss dance around the sitting room. No one else on the planet knew about Jim Moriarty’s secret love for crappy disco music. It had taken six years of working for the man and an extra two of living with him before Sebastian had seen it.

                The sniper scoffed as he watched Jim try to moonwalk his way across the floor to pick up the television remote, or apparently his new microphone. “Sure you are boss.”

                “It’s alright, it’s okay you can look the other way!” Jim looked a mess as he flailed around the room. His tie hung loose around his neck and his shirt was coming un-tucked from his trousers. Sebastian wouldn’t dare admit it out loud but these rare moments were some of his favorite. “Stop staring and come join me Basher,” Jim called over the music striking a pose that would make John Travolta proud.

                Sebastian groaned, he normally got to wait through at least three songs before he was forced to join in the madness. “You know I don’t disco boss,” he grumbled, knowing that his complaints were a waste of breath.

                “We both know that you do Tiger so don’t give me that crap. You’re welcome to consider it an order as well if that helps your precious ego.”  Sebastian accepted his fate and let his shoulder bounce in time to the beat as he walked up close to his ridiculous boss.  “That a boy! Anyways: whether you’re a brother or whether you’re a mother you’re stayin’ alive!”

                Sebastian laughed as he wrapped his arms around the smaller mans waist, swaying them both to the music. Moments like this where it was just the two of them, just Sebastian and Jim, did not come often enough and he was going to enjoy it while he could.

                The Bee Gees crooned the chorus over the speakers as Sebastian gently kissed the flushed skin on Jim’s exposed neck. _“Feel the city breakin and everybody shakin and we’re staying alive, staying alive.”_ Sebastian tightened his hold on his boss. “You damn well better Jim,” he whispered, turning the man around for a proper kiss. “You fucking better.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

                “You’ve come the closest,” Jim called from below. “Now you’re in my way.”

                “Thank you,” Sherlock replied, holding his pistol steady. Sebastian shifted nervously in his small outcrop. They had been in some tight spots before but this Sherlock Holmes was something completely new. Jim saw him as an enigma; an exciting puzzle waiting to be solved. Sebastian however saw him for what he really was; a threat.

                “Although I have loved this, this little game of ours, playing Jim from IT, playing gay.” Sebastian had to bite back a snort at that one. Yeah he was just ‘playing’ gay, and he was still ‘playing’ gay when he came home from one of his fake dates with that horrible coroner and demanded that Sebastian fuck him on the sitting room floor. And the underwear? Sebastian had given Jim that underwear a year ago as a gag gift turned interesting romp in the sack.

                “That’s was people DO!” Jim yelled, his voice echoing off the tile walls.

                Sherlock didn’t seem affected by the sudden outburst, which only worried Sebastian more. No regular person was unaffected by Jim’s sudden mood swings. “I will stop you.”

                Jim rolled his eyes, annoyed that his grand confrontation was being dictated by something so trivial as life or death. “No you won’t.” That was a promise that Sebastian would make sure stayed true.

                As though he suddenly remembered his friend covered in explosives Sherlock shifted his focus to John Watson; the ex-soldier and doctor who had apparently put up a hell of a fight on the way here. “You alright?”

                John looked panicked at being addressed; he had been given precise instructions not to speak when the explosive vest was rigged and would never risk the life of his best friend. Jim rolled his eyes dramatically at the stoic soldier.  “You can talk, Johnny Boy. Go ahead.” The consulting criminal always had been overly fond of giving nicknames.

                 Sherlock held out the small memory stick as an offering, as though this whole situation was ever about something so petty. “Take it,” Sherlock said, even from this distance Sebastian could tell that he was itching to make sure his blogger was okay.

                “Ah, that. The missile plans.” Jim plucked the small item from Sherlock’s grasp and inspected it for a second. “Boring! I could have got them anywhere.” He tossed the memory stick into the pool and in a flash of motion John had leapt up and grabbed Jim from behind.

                “Shit,” Sebastian muttered; he hated surprises, especially when they were out on a mission.

                Jim giggled despite his vulnerable position. “Good! Very Good.”

                “Your sniper pulls that trigger Mr. Moriarty, then we both go up.” Sebastian rolled his eyes as he heard John’s warning echo off the tile walls. No shit.

                Jim grinned at Sherlock. “Mm, he’s sweet. I can see why you like having him around. But then, people get so sentimental about their pets.” Sebastian bristled at the jab; it was not the first time that Jim had called him a pet. He shook his head gently to regain focus and quietly made his way to the other side of the rafters to aim his rifle straight at that damn detectives head, his finger itching to pull the trigger.

                John stepped away from Jim and backed up carefully. Sebastian felt some of the tension drain out of him as he saw his boss pat out the wrinkles from his suit. Fucking pretentious jerk. Even with the immediate danger eliminated Sebastian was eager for a kill.

                “Kill you? No, don’t be obvious. I mean, I’m going to kill you anyways,” Jim droned. Sebastian rolled his eyes again because yeah _Jim_ was the one who actually did the killing. Sure. “No no no, if you don’t stop prying I’ll burn you. I will burn the _heart_ out of you.” Even when it wasn’t aimed in his direction Jim’s threats still made the hairs on Sebastian’s arms stand. The man was small but what he lacked in physical size he more than made up for in intimidation technique.

                “Ciao, Sherlock Holmes,” Jim said as he began to make his way from the pool.

                Sherlock shifted his aim to follow his exit, never lowering the pistol. “Catch you later.”

                “No, you won’t!” Jim called in a sing-song voice as he let the door shut behind him.

                Sebastian clicked off the scope on his rifle and lowered it, ignoring the commotion below him as Sherlock checked on his flat mate. Before he could even reach for the case to think about disassembling his weapon his phone buzzed in his pocket. ‘Don’t even think about it Basher.’

                Sebastian sighed and tucked the mobile back into his pocket. Looks like they weren’t quite done for the night after all. He adjusted the gun back into position, keeping careful aim on the detective. Just as dramatically as he had left Jim came bursting back in.

                “Sorry, boys! I’m so changeable! It is a weakness with me, but to be fair to myself it is my only weakness.” Yeah sure it is boss, Sebastian thought to himself as he switched the laser scope back on, reminding everyone that he was still very much a threat from above. “You can’t be allowed to continue. You just can’t. I would try to convince you, but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind.”

                Sherlock straightened up from where he had been bent over his ‘not-gay’ ‘not-boyfriend’ in concern. “Then probably my answer has crossed yours.” He raised the pistol back into the air, aiming at Jims head before slowly lowering his aim to the Semtex covered vest that now lay in between the two.

                Sebastian felt all of the muscles in his trigger finger tense, he would blow the detectives head off without permission from Jim before he would let that happen. The tension was thick in the arena and Sebastian could barely hear over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

                The thumping rhythm of the chorus for Stayin’ Alive began to play and for a second Sebastian thought he was just imaging the whole thing. It wasn’t until Sherlock looked around in confusion and Jim rolled his eyes in frustration that Sebastian realized they could all hear it too. It was Jim’s mobile ringing at the worst possible moment ever. Suddenly Sebastian’s heart began to race for a whole new reason and he scrambled to pull his own phone from his pocket to make sure he had not accidently pressed the call button. If his dramatic showdown was ruined Jim was bound to be livid, and likely homicidal, with whoever dared to interrupt it.

                Thankfully his screen was blank and he let the phone slip quietly on to the floor as he carefully held his aim steady.  “Ah, ah, ah, ah stayin’ alive,” sang from Jim’s trouser pocket and Sebastian couldn’t help but smile to himself despite the situation. He had switched Jim’s ringtone over to the criminal’s favorite song after a particularly close call two weeks ago. Jim complained that the jest was juvenile and immature but despite his complaints he had not changed it back. It usually made Jim crack a smile when it rang and also served as a cheeky reminder of what Sebastian needed him so desperately to do. Stay Alive.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

                “What is the number one goddamn rule Moran?” A plate went sailing by his head and shattered against the wall. Sebastian slumped onto the couch, holding what was left of his shirt against the wound on his arm that would not stop bleeding.

                “Make the shot and don’t compromise the mission. Jesus boss chill the fuck out. Bertrand is dead and if any of his cohorts made it out alive they won’t be looking for trouble again.” Sebastian raised his injured arm in a weak attempt to reach for the whiskey bottle that was conveniently located just out of his reach.

                Jim hurled another dish past him, this time an unassuming saucer. “Wrong!”

                Sebastian rolled his eyes as he took a drink straight from the bottle. “It wasn’t that close of a call; I don’t know why you have your pants in such a wad!” Normally he knew better than to antagonize Jim during one of his temper fits but right now, the blood loss was making him light headed and he just didn’t have it in him to care.

                Jim stilled, dropping the mug that was in his hand as his eyes narrowed. “What was that Moran,” he asked, his voice just above a whisper. Sebastian grimaced as he swallowed another mouthful of whiskey. A quiet Jim was a dangerous Jim.

                “You fucking heard me,” he muttered, easing himself off the couch. “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go do something about the blood pouring out of my bicep.”

                Sebastian made it about five steps before he was slammed into the wall, Jim’s forearm pressed against his throat. Sebastian dropped the bloody rag and fisted his hands in the front of Jim’s suit, trying to push the smaller man off. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jim eyed him with a sneer. “I don’t know why I keep you around anyways. Look at you Tiger, so weak.” Sebastian glowered as his boss continued to berate him. The way Jim’s eyes flicked over his face, taking in every detail like he knew what Sebastian was going to do before he did was unnerving. “Worthless. I should just let you bleed out on the couch; it’s not like it would be hard to replace you anyways.”

                Sebastian’s heart was pounding and he finally couldn’t stand to just sit there and take it any longer. In a flash he surged forward and flipped them around, forcing Jim up against the wall. He held him in place with one hand wrapped around his neck, propping himself up against the wall with his injured arm, not caring how much blood got smeared across it in the process. It would serve Jim right, the ungrateful prat.

                Jim’s eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide. His hair was disheveled and blood from Sebastian’s wounds was drying on his cheek. Sebastian grinned at the sight because frankly the consulting criminal looked _delicious_ like that. He leaned in and licked a small drop off the nape of Jim’s neck, enjoying the way his breathing hitched.

                “I could snap your neck right now,” Sebastian murmured, his lips brushing against Jim’s ear as he pressed his thigh in between the criminal’s legs, pressing into his groin.

                “Yeah but you wouldn’t dare,” Jim drawled confidently.

                Sebastian tightened his hold, watching as Jim began to struggle to get a satisfying breath. “No; you’d probably haunt me from the fucking grave anyways.” He let go of Jim’s throat as if to prove his point. Jim greedily sucked in air but before he could fully recover Sebastian had slid that hand around to the back of his neck and was pulling him in for a kiss.

                The kiss was bruising as each man fought for dominance. Sebastian growled as Jim tightened a fist in his hair and yanked the sniper’s head back, breaking the kiss. “There’s no getting rid of me Basher. Remember that,” he muttered in between gasps for air. “Now, what do you say I stitch up that arm before you actually do bleed out all over my favorite suit?”

                Sebastian grinned and pulled his boss in for one more quick kiss, Jim had plenty of extra suits anyways.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

                Sebastian could still hear the gunshot echoing in his head. Half a year had passed since Jim had committed suicide but nothing had really changed. Sebastian would never forgive him for pulling the trigger, or himself for failing to stop it. He had been so focused on his post watching John fucking Watson that he hadn’t stopped to consider what Jim might do alone up there. Two psychopaths walk on to a roof, none leave alive. Sebastian snorted at the thought; it sounded like that beginning of a terrible joke.

                He had tried calling once, concerned about the delay in Jim’s perfectly crafted plan. Just knowing that that stupid Bee Gee’s ringtone was one of the last things that Jim heard before he died made him want to laugh and punch a wall at the same time. Apparently his cheeky reminder had been a waste of time.

                “Sir you can’t be up here,” a voice called from the stairwell.

                Sebastian rolled his eyes and pulled his pistol out from its hiding spot in the back of his trousers. “I would like to see you try to stop me,” he grumbled as he raised the gun and took aim. A loud crack sounded, followed by the familiar thud of a lifeless body crumpling to the ground.

                “Thought so.” Sebastian lowered the gun and took a sip from an almost empty bottle of scotch. He came up to the rooftop of Saint Bartholomew’s Hospital sometimes when everything got to be too much.

                Sebastian was the new James Moriarty, Consulting Criminal; still the only one of his kind. He had removed from duty most of the men and women who had been unfortunate enough to see Jim’s real face and taken over the empire in his image. Some of his schemes were less complex than when Jim had planned them but he always got results and his reach was just as broad.

                Trading in his jeans for the suit and tie was probably the worst part of the job he thought as he loosened the knot around his neck. “You can keep the fucking Westwood Jim, besides it doesn’t fit me quite like it did for you.”

                When he brought the bottle up to his lips again he noticed that there was only one proper drink worth left. With a frown he poured what remained on to the discolored concrete. “That’s for you, you dead Irish bastard.” Sebastian watched as the amber liquid mixed with the rusty stain that remained from Jim’s blood; all that really remained of the greatest man the world had ever gotten the privilege to fear.

                Anger and adrenaline surged through his veins at the sight and before he fully thought about it he had thrown the empty bottle against the ledge, watching it shatter. “You’re such a liar Jim!” He yelled to the emptiness.

                “You were always so confident. There’s no getting rid of you remember? Hell you promised to haunt me from the grave. So where are you?” Sebastian finally let the grief and exhaustion take hold of him and sank down to his knees. “Where the fuck are you now?”

                The gun clattered to the pavement as his pushed the heel of his hands into his eyes, refusing to cry. He wouldn’t give Jim the satisfaction of seeing him so weak, even after death.

                _“Whether you’re a mother or whether you’re a brother you’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive.”_ Sebastian froze as he heard the sounds of upbeat music and for a heartbeat he forgot where he was or that Jim was dead _. “Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin’ alive.”_ The constant vibrate against his leg shook him from the momentary shock and he reached into his pocket to silence the phone.

                “Staying alive,” Sebastian muttered. “Fucking liar.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

                “What was that?” Sebastian paused his pacing back and forth across the living room and pressed the mobile closer to his ear. “You had better end up being wrong about this Farris or you won’t live to see your son’s birthday next week.” He jabbed at the ‘end’ key on his phone, silencing the other mans pathetic pleas for mercy and second chances. When had Moriarty ever been known for his forgiving nature?

                Sebastian sank down onto the sofa and reached out of habit for the nearest bottle of liquor within reach. Empty, just great, a long week like this needed something stronger than a beer. He pinched the bridge of his nose willing the headache that had been looming all day to just leave him alone. With a groan he slipped off his tie and began to undo the top button on his shirt as he wandered around the flat looking for a new bottle. He was going to need to bring home more bottles at a time if he wanted to continue finishing them off at this rate.

                He was finally successful and poured out the first glass of scotch into one of the crystal glasses Jim had liked so much. The last three years alone had been a living nightmare and he wasn’t sure how Jim had ever managed on his own for so long. As if running a criminal empire was not hard enough, he had to alienate everyone around him, just in case. Every night Sebastian felt a little closer to following in his boss’s footsteps and just putting a bullet through his own brain.

                As he walked back over to the couch he flipped on the radio and picked up his pistol form the table. He had long since stopped using his own firearm but had taken to carrying around Jim’s own pistol. If he was going to kill himself that would be the appropriate way to go. His thumb brushed idly over the safety trigger as he sat lost in an internal debate he wasn’t sure he wanted to win.

                A firm knock at the door shook him from his ruminations. In a snap his senses were focused on the potential threat. No one he employed knew where he lived, he had been careful to make sure of that. Unconsciously he clicked off the safety, set down his glass, and quietly made his way to the door. Whoever it was knocked again, their rapping loud and impatient.

                Sebastian carefully flicked open the series of locks that he had installed before he eased the door open. “Don’t even think about it Moran.”

                Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat and he lurched forward, almost dropping the pistol in the process of wrenching the door open. Standing before him, just as handsome as the last time he had seen him was Jim Moriarty, smartly dressed and very much not dead. “Great, I have finally started hallucinating,” Sebastian grumbled as his heart rate began to return to normal.

                “Don’t be an idiot,” Jim said as he brushed past the stunned sniper and inside the flat. “You’ve really let the place go haven’t you?” He paused before turning around to grin at Sebastian. “I see you haven’t bothered to change the preset stations.”

                Sebastian closed the door slowly, his eyes never once leaving Jim’s face. “How are you here? Wait, am I dead? Did Hidders actually make good on his threat and kill me?”

                Jim rolled his eyes as he continued to inspect the flat for anything Sebastian might have altered in his absence. “Don’t be an idiot Basher. I’m back and I’m not dead. Obviously.”

                His callous tone struck a nerve in Sebastian and in a flash the man was stalking across the room and fisting a hand in the front of Jim’s impeccably neat dress shirt. He used his leverage to throw Jim against the wall, enjoying the sound of the air leaving his body in a huff.

“I missed you too Tiger.”Jim shot him a toothy grin, seemingly pleased that he had gotten under Sebastian’s skin so easily. Before he had a chance to say anything else Sebastian closed the remaining distance between them and pressed their lips together in a bruising kiss. Jim groaned as Sebastian bit his lower lip and without hesitation the sniper took the opportunity and swept his tongue inside. The kiss was hurried and frantic but being there, tangled up in each other felt like coming home.

Jim keened under him, arching his back off the wall, just as desperate for more contact. Sebastian broke away with a growl and began kissing down Jim’s neck, scraping his teeth over the exposed flesh. Jim tangled his fingers in Sebastian’s hair, pulling just hard enough as his hips sought for more friction, more contact, more Sebastian. “Fuck,” he gasped when Sebastian sunk his teeth into the soft skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder.

“Oh I fully intend to,” Sebastian purred as he licked over the angry red mark he had just created. His fingers began to worry at the buttons on Jim’s shirt but after two he gave up and tore at it, sending buttons flying across the room. Struggling to ignore his own arousal Sebastian moved farther south to remove the trousers that seemed dead set on keeping him away from his target. The fabric crumpled to the floor and finally Jim stood before him completely exposed and as Sebastian let his fingers trail lightly over the exposed surface it was like the past three years had never happened, like they had never been apart.

The thought sent a shudder down his spine and in a flash his hand was wrapped around Jim’s throat again, pulling him away from the wall and pushing him down on the floor. Jim followed obediently, happy to take the submissive role for once. Sebastian let out a low groan at the sight of his boss splayed out across the carpet; his skin flushed with arousal, hair disheveled from where Sebastian’s fingers had tangled through it, and cock standing erect and practically begging for the other man’s touch.

“Sebastian,” Jim purred, never breaking eye contact as he let his hands run down his chest until one was wrapped around himself, pumping slowly. Sebastian felt his own cock twitch from where it was trapped and in an instant he was shucking his own clothing and sinking down to his knees between Jim’s parted thighs.

He pulled Jim’s hand away, grinning as Jim whimpered and squirmed below him, desperate for contact. Sebastian spat on his hand before he fisted them both together, moaning softly at the friction. Nails dug into his back and eager legs wrapped around his waist as Jim tugged him closer and captured his lips in another kiss. As Sebastian felt the tension building in his gut he sped up his pace, flicking his thumb over the top in sync with each thrust. Jim dug his fingers in harder, leaving his own marks on the sniper that would speak of their reunion for days to come. The combination of sensations was almost too much and when Jim began to softly groan his name it pushed Sebastian over the edge.

“Come with me Jim,” Sebastian growled and with a whimper Jim obeyed, spilling across Sebastian’s chest as the sniper stroked them both through their orgasm. Shuddering with release, Sebastian pulled Jim into a gentle kiss until the fingers that were digging into his back loosened and their heart rates began to slow. Sebastian rolled to the side with a groan but even as he relaxed he kept an arm wrapped tightly around Jim, afraid that if he let go the man might disappear again.

Jim let his fingers trail lightly over Sebastian’s arm, tracing out the pattern of new and old scars. They would need more time to relearn each other’s bodies and explore the changes that three hard years could create.

_“Oh you can tell by the way I use my walk, I’m a woman’s man no time to talk.”_

Sebastian felt his heart skip a beat and his body tense as the song started to play on the radio that he had forgotten was even on. _“Music loud and women warm, I’ve been kicked around since I was born.”_ Unconsciously he tightened his grip on the man next to him as unwanted memories came flooding in.

“Oh shit, this is my jam Basher,” Jim cried in glee as he started to squirm to the beat. Sebastian felt the tension drain out of him as Jim began to hum along.

“I’m a dancing man and I just can’t lose,” Jim crooned as wiggled back and forth against him in what Sebastian assumed was supposed to be some sort of disco move.

Sebastian chuckled at the familiar sight. “Stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive,” he sung in Jim’s ear.

Jim turned over to look him in the eye and grinned. “I told you that you could never get rid of me.”

“Welcome back boss,” Sebastian muttered with an eye roll.

“Did you miss me?”


End file.
